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When the elevator brought me practically to her doors, I pressed the doorbell. I swiped my left hand behind my back, concealing the chocolate. I had to close my teeth around my lower lip in order to hold back a smile. Surprises weren’t Jennifer’s favorite thing in the world, but I felt like I could get away with a few smaller ones. It was a way to show my feelings. Small gestures, a bit of attention, and showing someone that I thought of them were my love language.
As footsteps shuffled on the other side of the door, I played out the possible reactions. Jennifer was always happy to see me. And lately even more than usual. Although we were only six months into this crazy new thing, I was starting to feel really good about it.
My ears perked up as the lock turned and the door began to open. “Surp…”
“Hey.” The six-foot jock with a towel around his waist and either water or sweat dripping down his chest stood at the door. I could hear water running in Jennifer’s bathroom. “Where’s the pizza?” His voice was gruff and his eyebrows met in the middle as he frowned at the lack of food. He was broader than me but not taller, so he stared furiously at me. “You’re not the pizza guy.”
“I, uh…” My throat was dry like I hadn’t had a sip of water in days. Sudden pressure dropped onto my chest.
“It’s already paid for,” Jennifer’s voice came through the bathroom door to the beefy jock’s left. The water stopped splashing and her voice came more softly. “Did you get it?”
“Nah, bae, gimme a sec,” the guy replied, then looked at me. “Who the hell are you?”
“Not the pizza guy,” I rasped. It was so hard to inhale and I needed air now more than ever. I blinked and realized that my eyes stung. Fuck. Was I about to cry? What the fuck was wrong with me? But then I felt it. Rage. It was pure, white rage that made my eyes sting and my vision blur. “I’m Jennifer’s boyfriend,” I spat. “Who the hell are you?”
The guy opened his mouth to say something.
The bathroom door flew open, and my beautiful, treacherous girlfriend stepped out with a towel tied under her arms, covering her all the way to her knees. “Oh…Sebastian. I…baby, it’s not what you think.”
Oh, please, I wanted to say, but I couldn’t. My pulse was so fast and my heart pounded so hard that it sent waves of a headache to the back of my skull.
“Dixon, you need to go,” Jennifer said.
“I’m naked. And hungry.” The guy she called Dixon said as he crossed his big arms at his chest. They were definitely larger than my arms. His abs were softer, though, even if his pecs were massive.
Why the hell was I comparing myself to him? I forced myself to stop before my gaze dropped even lower. No. I won’t let his barbaric looks intimidate me, I thought. “Maybe I should go,” I said dryly. I took a step back when the elevator dinged and the door opened. A young man with a large pizza box stepped out.
Jennifer was fuming with anger. “Sebastian, what are you doing here? You should have called.”
Dixon accepted the delivery and stepped away from the door. “I’m taking this with me,” he announced. The delivery guy left us as quickly as he had interrupted.
Dixon’s words set a fire in Jennifer’s eyes, but she rounded on me, holding the towel in place. “How many times did I tell you to call first?”
“Was it always because there was someone else here?” I asked after a moment of silence. I hadn’t said a million other things that had crossed my mind. I could do this like a civilized person. I didn’t look like a brute and I wasn’t one. Even if that seemed to be my girlfriend’s type.
The passive-aggressive throwing of pieces of clothes told me that Dixon was getting dressed for a cold night out.
“No,” Jennifer snapped in reply to my question. “I never had anyone over. I just don’t like…when you don’t call…” She struggled to find new words because those she had spoken turned to lies as Dixon stepped toward us and yanked his jacket on. True to his word, he carried the big pizza with him.
“This is bullshit,” he growled. He turned to me. “Don’t fucking lay a finger on her.”
“Dixon, go away,” Jennifer all but screeched.
I stepped away from them both. “No worries there. I wouldn’t touch her with a stick.”
“Whoa,” the brute growled at me. “Shut the f…”
“Dixon,” Jennifer reminded him, and the dude punched the elevator button. An awkward silence settled while Dixon waited for the elevator to return and I wondered if I had any reason to linger. Perhaps to let my feelings pour into words? I didn’t know why I would want to do that. I didn’t know why I would spill my heart out to the very person who had shredded it. What would that accomplish? I couldn’t make her ashamed when she had no shame. Besides, I didn’t want to.
We were all losers here.
Dixon struggled with the box and I watched with disgust as he slipped a greasy slice of pizza out and began eating it in the hallway. Drops of orange pepperoni oil dribbled down his chin. He sauntered into the elevator, dropped the slice on top of the box, and pressed the button with one oily finger. Fucking asshole.
As the elevator door closed, I looked at Jennifer. “He’s a catch.”
She rolled her eyes with total disdain. “Don’t give me that shit.”
“Which shit should I give you?” I asked, unable to resist. Perhaps I wasn’t as grown-up as I had presented myself to be. The wound that tore open deep inside of me was slow to begin bleeding, but it bled all the same.
